


Surviving Praimfaya

by LittleHeda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, Heavy Angst, I don't know what I'm doing, Lexa didn't die, Maybe she finds Clarke, Mental Breakdown, She's alone in the middle of the apocalypse, Titus can go fuck himself, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:21:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleHeda/pseuds/LittleHeda
Summary: Day 300:Tears rolled in rivets down her cheeks, her body rocking back and forth as she sat perched in the sand near the sea. A fierce breeze tousled her tangled hair, although Lexa had hacked at the matted locks earlier that morning with a knife. It was short enough to be tucked behind her ears and it hardly reached her shoulders, but Lexa didn’t care about her disheveled appearance since there was no left on Earth to bear witness.ORLexa survived the gunshot wound, was whisked away from Polis to recover, then is forced to survive on her once Praimfaya hits because she couldn't make it back to home. Angsty as fuck. Sorry not sorry.





	1. One.

**Day 47:**

It was early in the morning when dark green eyes fluttered open, the sun only just beginning to break beyond the bend in the horizon. The air was thick with a stifling humidity, and the aftermath of _Praimfaya_ weighed heavily in Lexa’s lungs as she tried to breathe. Her skin burned, her insides burned, and there wasn’t a single part of her that the death wave hadn’t scorched beyond recognition. She was scarred like the incinerated forest where she’d grown up, the trees blackened to soot and only stumps remaining in the wake of where _Trikru_ had once stood. 

Devastation stretched on for miles and far beyond the border of any clan. Lexa had spent the days following _Praimfaya_ wandering in trepidation, her search for life all that was left to drive her. The bitter tang of death had long since taken up residency on the back of her tongue, a stark reminder that perhaps she was the only one left. That the Commander was the Earth’s sole survivor.  

It was a paralyzing conviction to come to terms with, so she refused. Lexa had yet to relinquish the last shreds of hope she held on to. The universe had robbed her of enough, though now she only wished that it would finally deprive her of her senses. 

Of her sight, because the blackened Earth that was the color of her blood was an agonizing view to behold. 

Of her smell, because the burnt flesh of those incinerated by the death wave could wake her from the deepest of sleeps.

Of her touch, because the blistered skin of her fingertips burned with the lightest pressure.

Of her taste, because stomach acid churned harshly in the pit of her empty stomach, creeping up her throat in the form of bile.

Of her hearing, because the silence of the Earth was deafening. 

Lexa’s scathed fingertips sank into the soil beneath her. Her eyes, half-lidded and hallow orbs of haunted disdain, were fixated on the flickering flames of the fire that she’d sparked to life with two stones. It was warm without the added heat of the flames, but as the tendrils of smoke filtered up into the air, Lexa prayed that another living soul would take note of it. She prayed that the solitude would finally end in the form of some kind of companion. 

 _Any_ companion. 

The Commander couldn’t afford to be picky. 

**Day 193:**

A guttural growl rumbled through her chest as she touched her fingers to the ground. The tire tracks disappeared into the dark colored sand and were lost, the trail cold and far beyond the Commander’s short reach. Lexa’s eyes burned with unshed tears and so she closed them, her bottom lip quivering with the oncoming threat of her despair. 

The trail, she’d been certain, was fresh. Tire tracks were pressed into the soot where the forest of her homelands once stood, and Lexa was sure that they hadn’t been there earlier that morning. She had missed the sound of the vehicle’s engine roaring like a _pauna_ across the field, but the Commander had spent the early hours of her day chasing after the raindrops of a storm.

Pushing out a breath through her nose, the Commander rose stiffly to her feet. She cringed, her back giving a dull ache in protest to the sudden straightening of her spine, and Lexa soon regretted her decision to have stayed crouched for so long. But she’d been desperate, the dead-end trail grasping at the momentary lapse in her sanity and beckoning her to the edges of the Earth. 

**Day 251:**

She dropped to her knees inside the ravine, her fingers dipping desperately into the shallow puddle of water that had been trapped there from last night’s storm. Lexa gathered the liquid between the palms of her hands and then drank, her mouth as dry as the desert. The burn of radiation singed the back of her throat, but Lexa didn’t have it in her to care. 

The Commander, god damn it, was _thirsty_.

Water dripped down her chin, spilling through cracked lips and gently trembling fingers. Lexa paced herself after several moments of being greedy, though only after she’d buried her face so far into her palms that the water had gone up her nose. She’d gagged, sputtered, then reached for the flask that she’d crafted from torn cloth and leather. 

Rain had been scarce over the last several weeks and so water was a luxury to come by. Lexa had done well when trying to ration her savings, but a small drink every couple of hours was hardly enough to quench her thirst. By her best estimate, the season would be changing soon from spring to summer and her flask would do her little good. 

She had decided, at some point, that she would begin to travel further East. Perhaps the rivers and lakes had gone dry, but she doubted that the sea had succumbed to _Praimfaya_. Lexa would, if she had to, drink the salt water, and she held out hope that the ocean still held life. Fish had never been her favorite source of sustenance, but the Commander still couldn’t afford to be picky. 

Mutated squirrels that were missing their limbs would not keep her alive forever.

 **Day 300:**  

Tears rolled in rivets down her cheeks, her body rocking back and forth as she sat perched in the sand near the sea. A fierce breeze tousled her tangled hair, although Lexa had hacked at the matted locks earlier that morning with a knife. It was short enough to be tucked behind her ears and it hardly reached her shoulders, but Lexa didn’t care about her disheveled appearance since there was no left on Earth to bear witness.  

**Day 387:**

Lexa swore that she would never return to Polis. She swore that she would never subject herself to the devastation that had befallen her capital. But there was a part of her that had always known she would come back, for nothing if not the fragile hope that there was another soul wandering, like her, amongst the ruins. 

The Commander’s heart was an empty chasm inside her chest, beating only for the sake of something to do. She had decided early on that there was no sense in digging through the rubble, and so every stone remained unturned as she traipsed through her city in despair. Lexa’s feet shuffled along worn down pathways, and she tried to imagine where her Tower and the markets had once stood.  

If she tried hard enough, she could still smell the faint scent of fresh baked sweets from her favorite vendor in the market. The memory of her last visit with Orla was a fond one, and she could still recall the look on Clarke’s face as she tasted buttered bread for the first time.

 _Clarke_.

Her heart squeezed painfully in warning. The Commander’s mind was wandering into dangerous territory; Lexa blinked her eyes and Clarke’s face appeared behind her eyelids. She wondered, vaguely, if Clarke had been in Polis when the death wave had ended their world. She wondered if, somewhere, her beautiful face was buried beneath the stones and the rubble of her capital.  

Gritting her teeth, Lexa kicked at a brick that was isolated in the center of her path. Every night since the death wave had ended her life, Lexa had prayed that the fates had been kind to the blonde that had fallen from the sky. She prayed that Clarke’s death had come swiftly, that she hadn’t lingered or suffered for too long. But Lexa had seen the radiation incinerate those who had tended to her after her Titus’s betrayal all those months ago. She had seen the forest that had been reduced to ash and the mountains that had crumbled to mere dust. 

Momentarily lost in her reverie, Lexa nearly missed the soft hum of an engine as a truck passed through the outer reaches of Polis.

**Day 417:**

She was close.

Lexa could smell the smoke from a mile away, though she had followed their tracks for several more. They were hardly covering their trail, but why would they? Certainly, like Lexa, the driver of the vehicle believed that they were the last of their kind. The Commander couldn’t discern their methods of navigation, but she was positive that her companion was traveling with little rhyme or reason, with little to no destination in mind. 

She didn’t blame them. There was nowhere left on Earth worth going.  

The trail led her to a recently doused fire, the coals piled together still smoldering. Lexa eyes fluttered with disbelief, and her heart plummeted so low in her chest that she was sure it had fallen into her stomach. She reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed one of the stones from the fire, hardly flinching as the black coal singed her scarred fingertips. She rolled it around in her palm, then closed her fist around the accelerant. 

She was close.

Someone, other than her, was alive. 

**Day 430:**

She had found them.

The rover was parked several yards away and next to a pond that had been gradually catching rainwater. Lexa inched forward with bated breath, her dark eyes wide and flooded with intense apprehension. Her hands were shaking, and although she would grow to regret it later, her fingers were curled around the hilt of a knife that she had crafted out of scrap metal from Polis. She doubted it would do her any good, but Lexa was desperate, afraid, and she was praying to the Spirits of the Commanders before her that her comrade was nothing if not hospitable. 

As usual, she was running low on food.

Lexa’s advance came to an immediate halt when the back of the rover flew open. A small girl clad in dark clothing popped out and into the open, her stocky legs carrying her towards the pond before she freely dashed into the water. The Commander blinked, the air expelling from her lungs as the child splashed in the pond, a sheepish smile cutting into the curves of her cheeks. 

Sheathing her knife, Lexa crept forward with trepidation, her movements slow to avoid startling the girl. If she’d noticed her, the child had yet to acknowledge her, and instead her attention was fixated on the back of the truck. As she grew closer, Lexa could the girl’s laughter, and the sound was like music to her ears. Her heart thumped heavily against her ribcage, threatening to burst through her chest, and the corners of her eyes brimmed with tears that blurred and obscured the Commander’s vision. 

“Take your bath, Madi. You know we can’t stay here too long.” 

That voice—that lovely, low, _familiar_ voice—was like a kick to the chest and it sent Lexa staggering to her knees. She gasped, the scorched forest floor under the palms of her hands careening dizzily beneath her. The weakness of her antics had drawn the child’s attention from the pond; she shrieked, scrambling out of the water and rushing back into the rover.

A woman rolled out of the back of the truck, older by several summers and with blonde hair cut short to her shoulders. Lexa struggled for some semblance of composure, and she wondered, as heavy footsteps thudded towards her, when someone else had wrapped their hands around her throat. She tried to lift her head; she tried to meet the crystalline gaze glaring down at her. But the barrel of a gun was pressed harshly against the top of her head and keeping her eyes trained on the ground.

“Who are you?” The blonde woman demanded, her finger hover unsurely over the trigger. “How did you find us? Where did you come from?” 

She struggled to find the words to speak; to hear the sound of her voice over the thrum of her pulse in her ears. “The tire tracks,” Lexa eventually rasped, her tongue like sandpaper behind her teeth. Her mouth was dry, and Lexa would give anything to crawl into the pond and drown herself in the water for a drink. “Your truck, its tires—you—” 

Lexa forced herself to lift her head. She was desperate.

Blue eyes widened as they met emerald green, and the rifle in her hands clattered to the ground at her feet. “ _Lexa_?” The other woman said, uncertain. “It—you _can’t_ be—you’re _dead_.” 

The Commander shook her head with disdain. “Clarke,” She breathed, and the sky girl gasped as the sound of her name rolled expertly off the tip of Lexa’s tongue. “I did not—how are _you_ alive?” Lexa’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t understand, how—” She coughed, her chest rattling with the threat of oncoming hysteria. 

Clarke blinked several times before turning sharply on her heel. “Madi!” She called, and the child’s head peered from around the rover. “Bring her some water.” 

Immediately doing as she was told, Madi filled a canteen with water before darting across the space in between them. She pressed the cup into Clarke’s hands before hiding behind her legs, bending at the waist to keep her cover as Clarke knelt down in front of Lexa. “Here,” She said stiffly, holding the cup to Lexa’s lips and prompting the Commander to drink. Lexa did so, grateful, and greedily gulped down the water. It was warm. “Slowly,” Clarke chided. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

When the cup was empty, Lexa sat back on her knees and looked up at Clarke through eyes that were glistening with tears. “Clarke—” 

“You owe me a goddamn explanation,” Clarke snarled, and the child behind her cringed. Lexa didn’t blame her. The last time that she had reunited with Clarke after several months apart, she'd appropriately spat in the Commander’s face. “I want to know how you’re alive when I watched you die in my arms.”  

Lexa nodded, her fingers absently prodding at her stomach. She could still feel the thick scar left behind from the bullet that had pierced through her torso. “I will tell you, Clarke, I promise.” Lexa said, her fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and touch her in some way. Her hand, her shoulder, even Clarke’s leg would do. She had to see if the other woman was real, because she couldn’t be. 

She _couldn’t_ be. _Praimfaya_ should have killed her like the others. 

“Oh!” 

Lexa’s eyes turned to the child. 

Madi, Clarke had called her, was standing up straight and bouncing on the heels of her feet. Her dark eyes were wide, hopeful, and her hands were floundering at her sides with excitement. Her hair, Lexa noticed, had been carefully woven into traditional _Trikru_ braids. “You called her Lexa,” Madi said, and Clarke looked back at her in exasperation. “She’s the Commander, right? She’s _Heda_. The woman who stopped the monsters from killing the princess!” 

Clarke nodded, once, and gritted her teeth. “Yes,” She confirmed, and Madi’s smile was radiant. “Go back to the rover and wait for me.” 

“But _Clarke_ ,” The child whined, and Clarke heaved a sigh of dejection. “You said that _Heda_ —”

“ _Heda_ died,” Clarke deadpanned, prompting Madi’s smile to waver. “But this is Lexa, and she owes me one hell of an explanation.” 

The child was relentless, and she rocked back and forth on her feet. “Is she a Nightblood like us?” She asked, and Lexa’s interest was piqued. Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb, fully anticipating the onslaught of questions from them both. “I thought that only Nightbloods could—”

“ _Yes_ , Madi. She’s a Nightblood. Now go to the rover and wait for me.”

Madi, Lexa would learn, rarely ever did as she was told.


	2. Two.

**Day 430 Continued:**

On the premise that Lexa was nearly starved to death, Clarke invited her into the back of the rover. The Commander was grateful for Clarke’s hospitality, but she did little more than press a small bag into Lexa’s palm before leaving her alone inside the truck. She could hear hushed voices from outside, followed by the gentle clanking of two stones as Madi sparked a fire to life near the pond. As small flames burst from between the stones, Madi cheered victoriously and Clarke praised her efforts. At the very least, and although she didn't quite understand how, it warmed Lexa's heart to know that Madi and Clarke had survived _Praimfaya_. 

A tired sigh escaped through Lexa’s lips and exhaustion sank into her bones, but she was hungry. Clarke had given her food, _their_ food, and it would be rude of Lexa to not eat, regardless of how desperate she was to speak to Clarke instead. But Lexa knew, from a very reluctant experience, that Clarke would speak to her when she was ready, and so she emptied the bags contents into the palm of her hand before nearly groaning with relief. A few berries, mint leaves, and several thin strips of dried meat were enough to make Lexa’s mouth water. 

She took a blueberry between her index finger and thumb, squeezing it gently until juice began to bubble through the skin. Lexa wondered where Clarke had found such a luxury, but she wasted little time dwelling on its discovery before popping the berry between her teeth. She crushed it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue, and Lexa's eyes closed in absolute bliss in response to the explosion of flavor that burst behind her lips. Wanting to savor the berry’s taste, Lexa refused to swallow it for several moments, only doing so when she could no longer handle the mushy texture on the back of her tongue.

Clarke reappeared through the back door of the rover after Lexa had picked through the berries, her arms folded across her chest and her posture as stiff as a board. “Are you still hungry?” She asked tersely, eyeing Lexa’s hand to asses what food she had left. She'd yet to start on the mint leaves, but a strip of cooked squirrel meat was pressed between her fingers. “We don’t have much in the truck, but we have plenty more back home.” 

The Commander’s head quirked to the side in question, but the hardening of Clarke’s eyes prevented her from asking aloud where Clarke and the child called home. “No,” She said instead, her voice hardly above a whisper. “This is more than enough. Thank you, Clarke.”

She watched as Clarke turned to look over her shoulder, drawn that way by the sound of Madi giggling, and Lexa couldn’t help but to notice the small, fond smile that pulled at the corners of Clarke’s lips. She could remember a time when Clarke had looked at her with that same tenderness, that same _love_ , but now it appeared as though Clarke could only look at her with contempt. Madi was fortunate to have someone like Clarke looking after her, but Lexa wasn't blind to the fact that, perhaps, Madi was looking after Clarke, too. "How did you find her?” Lexa couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“I didn’t,” Clarke answered through her teeth. “She found me.” 

There was a momentary lapse in silence, and then Lexa could hear water splashing from outside. Clarke’s lips curved up into another smile, one that was slightly more reserved than her last. She was watching Madi wade through the water, and although the it only rose to the child’s waist, Madi flopped backwards until she was floating on her back through the pond. Clarke watched her with a subtle nervousness burning in the depths of her eyes, and there was a large part of her subconscious that was waiting, cruelly, for a mutated hand to reach out of the water and drag Madi down beneath the surface. She stood stock still and with bated breath, and Lexa noticed the slight shuffle of Clarke's feet, back and forth, from one to the other, wanting, waiting, prepared to send her barreling into the pond to retrieve the only source of her sanity. 

“Clarke,” Lexa murmured, and Clarke’s shoulders tensed beneath the weight of her name. The Commander slid forward on her bottom, using her feet to propelling her forward until she was sitting against the open door of the rover. “I owe you an explanation.” She said quietly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch Clarke’s arm, either to comfort her fears or pacify her own paranoia, she wasn't sure. She still wasn't certain that Clarke was real, that her own sanity hadn't slipped away from her entirely, but certainly a gentle brush of her fingers against Clarke's pale skin would prove otherwise?

Clarke nodded once to agree, but she kept her gaze fixated on Madi. Lexa sighed. “Where would you like for me to begin?” 

A scoff, mocking, escaped through Clarke’s lips. “How about when you died,” She spat, vehement. Lexa flinched. “Or what about when Titus cut the Flame out of the back of your head? Thanks for telling me about that, by the way. Or _how about_ —”

“I never meant for you to get hurt,” Lexa blurted, and Clarke finally turned to her in exasperation. “I didn’t, Clarke. I would never—” She sighed again, rubbing her forehead with the pads of her fingers to try and alleviate the pain that was rapidly building behind her eyes. “Titus, like you, believed I was dead. It was not until after he removed the Flame and was carrying me away to begin the Conclave that he realized I was still alive,” Lexa could still feel the pain from his betrayal. She could still feel Clarke's hands pressing against her torso where the bullet had struck, her dark blood oozing between her fingers and staining her ivory skin black. “He had already announced that I was dead. He had already removed the Flame. If people knew that I was alive but no longer the Commander, they—”

A splash in the water cut her off, followed by Madi’s high pitched laughter as she stomped through the pond in pursuit of a radioactive fish. Lexa watched her for several moments before a tender smile pulled at the corners of her lips. She doubted that Madi understood the entirety of Praimfaya and its aftermath, but she was grateful that Clarke had done well in keeping her spirits so high. She wished that she could talk to Clarke about her, to ask her how they'd found one another, but Lexa knew that Clarke wasn't ready to disclose such information. Her eyes held uncertainty and Clarke was skeptical; afraid to believe the Commander because she had lied to her before.

“No one has ever removed the Flame by choice before,” Lexa continued quietly, and Clarke’s head jerked with a single nod, her words ringing familiar in the back of her mind. “Titus was afraid that if he tried to put it back, I would die. But I would have died regardless, I suppose, because if my people were to discover that I no longer had the Flame, they would have called for my execution.” 

Clarke clenched her jaw so tightly that Lexa feared her teeth would disintegrate into dust. “Titus told me you were dead, and I saw him several times before he slit his own throat,” Clarke's tone was venomous, and even though Titus had very nearly killed her, Lexa blanched at the mention of his death. If Clarke noticed the sudden flush in her cheeks, she chose not to address it. Or she simply didn't care, which Lexa presumed to be more likely. “I saw your body during the purification ritual. I saw Aden—” Clarke pushed out a breath through her nose, and Lexa felt a harsh pain dig into her heart like a knife. “ _You were dead_.”

“Whoever’s body you saw during the start of the Conclave, Clarke…it was not mine,” Lexa folded her hands together in her lap to keep them from trembling. “I don’t know who Titus murdered to take my place, but the body was not mine. I would imagine, that by the start of the purification ritual, I was on my way to Rihmo,” The Commander noted the slight crease in Clarke’s brow before continuing. “It is a village South of Tondc and within _Trikru_ borders. I do not recall the journey, but I woke up in my childhood home several days after Titus shot me. My mother was there, and her brother.” 

Shaking her head, Clarke’s fingernails cut into her biceps, her arms still crossed over the swell of her chest. “Why didn’t you come back?” She demanded, and Lexa heard the subtle waver that threatened to break her tone. “Polis was in _ruins_ , Lexa. Ontari joined the Conclave and killed the Nightbloods. _Your_ Nightbloods. The children you helped raise. She cut off their heads while they slept. _Aden’s_ head. You could have come back.” 

Lexa’s eyes fluttered shut, a violent wave of nausea rolling through her. She’d been spared the details of the Conclave, but hearing it now, Lexa couldn't say she was surprised. The Azgeda were as ruthless as their lands were cold, and she'd always known that in the event of her death, Ontari would return to Polis and compete in the Conclave for the Flame. “I couldn’t come back, Clarke,” She said, sullen, and even Clarke could recognize the regret in the Commander’s words. “I could not walk for several days after I awoke in Rihmo, and the healers tending to me kept me sedated because I would not cooperate. I _wanted_ to come back, Clarke. I _tried_ to. But I couldn’t.”

“You could have sent a messenger,” Clarke argued, pushing herself away from the rover and moving to stand in front of Lexa. “You could have found a way to send word that you were alive. I—” Clarke’s voice finally cracked. Lexa cringed. “I thought you were _dead_. I thought that I would never see you again," Her eyes, the same shade of blue that Lexa remembered, were glistening with unshed tears. "You could have found a way to tell _me_.” 

“ _I tried_ ,” Lexa repeated, her heart aching for who had once been her lover. Clarke was shuffling from one foot to the other again, and her nostrils flared with a barely subdued hysteria. “I sent a messenger from Rihmo to find you, to tell you that I was alive and to come and find me, but he fell victim to the City of Light.” 

A tear rolled down Clarke’s cheek as she blinked. “I was there,” She said, and Lexa quirked her head. Clarke, strong, persistent, and unafraid to follow the projections of her heart, had been weak enough to fall into victim to an illusion? Lexa could hardly wrap her mind around it. “It was the only way to stop ALIE and save our people," Clarke's tone had lost some of its hostility. "I was there, in the City of Light. So were you,” Clarke pressed her lips together in a thin line to keep them from trembling. “I used Ontari's Nightblood to take the Flame, and I saw you. You protected me,” A wet laugh escaped from the back of her throat. “You said that you’d always be with me.” 

Lexa hardly missed a beat. “And here I am.” 

Clarke's expression deadpanned. "And here you are," She repeated, and although she saw the questions that were burning in the Commander’s dark eyes, Clarke didn’t have it in her to keep discussing the final break in her sanity. “You’re welcome to travel with me and Madi,” She said, and Lexa heard the absolution in her tone. There would be no more talk of Lexa’s death. Not today. “We’ve been staying in a bunker north of here, about a three days drive. We travel to find new supplies. It isn’t much, but it’s home. You’re welcome to stay, if you want.” 

Lexa caught her bottom lip between her teeth and hesitated. “Would Madi mind?” 

She snorted “No,” Clarke told her. “Madi won’t mind. You’re just someone else for her to play with.” 

“I would like to stay with you, then, if _you_ don’t mind,” Lexa’s hands fidgeted nervously in her lap. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “If I minded, I wouldn’t have offered. Besides, by the looks of things, you’re hardly in any condition to take care of yourself. No wonder the healers in Rihmo kept you sedated.”

She wasn’t certain, because surely _Praimfaya_ had hardened Clarke into something more stubborn and unyielding, but Lexa would swear that her words hadn't been without humor. The Commander watched as Clarke turned on her heels and sauntered away from the rover, only to crouch near the fire and hold out her hands to help warm them. She tossed a scathing look over her shoulder when Lexa failed to follow, then nodded towards the flames. “Are you going to sit there, or are you going to get over here and properly meet my kid?” Madi's gaze lifted from the stone she was twisting through her fingers, her dark eyes wide as she grinned at Lexa over the fire.

The corners of Lexa’s lips quirked with a smile before she slid out of the back of the rover. 


	3. Three.

**Day 433** :

The tension between the Commander and Clarke was suffocating, but at the very least, it wasn’t suffocating enough to put a damper on Madi’s mood. She romped around in the back of the truck as Clarke drove, hopping from one side to the other on the premise that she was a panther chasing its prey. Every so often, Clarke would glance up into the rearview mirror and smile, prompting Lexa to look up and do the same. 

The child had taken to her rather well, much to Clarke’s dismay, and when Madi caught Lexa staring at her in the mirror, she’d claw up her hands, bare her teeth, and playfully growl at the Commander. Lexa would hold up her hands and feign submission, and then Madi would fall over onto her side in a fit of giggles. Her laughter was still music to Lexa’s ears, but then again, so was the sound of Clarke’s voice, her bitter tone aside. 

It was later in the evening when Madi popped up between the front seats, her dark eyes wide and full of mirth. “Clarke,” She said, and Clarke hummed in acknowledgement. “Are we almost home?” Madi asked, rousing a heavy sigh out of Clarke.

“If I drive through the night, we’ll be there by morning,” Clarke told her, relaxing her grip on the steering wheel and settling back into her seat. “It’s getting late. You should start settling down and getting ready for bed,” Clarke leaned over Lexa and reached into the compartment on the dashboard, retrieving a radio. “Here,” She said, handing it to Madi. The girl grinned, clutching the device to her chest. “You can take the radio tonight. See if anyone’ll answer you.” 

Satisfied with the task at hand, Madi disappeared into the back of the rover. Lexa heard the distinct sound of static crackling through the radio as Madi fiddled with the frequencies, then the quiet whispering of her voice as she spoke into the receiver. “Who is she trying to contact?” Lexa asked softly, turning her head to look at Clarke. “I have seen you with that radio every morning.”

Clarke pursed her lips before setting the rover’s cruise control. “She’s trying to contact whoever is listening,” She said, removing her foot from the gas pedal. “We’re not the only ones to survive _Praimfaya_. There are others,” Clark glanced at Lexa. The Commander’s eyes had widened, comically, and her lips had parted with surprise. “Before the death wave hit, we found a bunker in Polis. It was big enough to hold twelve-hundred people, but—”

“A _bunker_?” Lexa said, cutting Clarke off as she tried process the information that she was throwing at her. She knew her capital like the back of her own hand. “There is no bunker in Polis, Clarke. I would have known if there were, and—”

“You couldn’t have known,” Clarke told her, leaning her back against the headrest and loosening her grip on the steering wheel. “The bunker was inside the crypt of the first Commander. Not even Titus would have known what it really was,” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Indra’s daughter is the new Flamekeeper, and it was her who helped us open it.” 

Clarke’s head lulled to the side and she looked at Lexa, her expression softening. She was staring at her lap, still struggling to wrap her mind around the things that Clarke was telling her. Clarke sighed. “There are twelve-hundred people inside the bunker,” She explained. “A hundred from each clan, including mine, excluding Luna’s. They were the first to die in _Praimfaya,_ ” Clarke glanced up into the rearview mirror to check on Madi, who was still whispering into the radio. She smiled. “I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, but Nightbloods are immune to the radiation. Luna survived at first, but she's dead now.”

The Commander was hardly listening to her. 

Lexa’s perfect facade had long since cracked beneath the weight of her solitude, but a strong sense of relief had suddenly sank into the depths of her bones. Her people were safe. They were _alive_ , and somehow, she knew she could thank Clarke for their survival. “That is unfortunate,” She heard herself murmur. “Luna was a good friend.”

“There was a fight for the bunker,” Clarke conveyed, redirecting her attention to the barren land stretched out in front of the rover. “A final Conclave. One champion from each clan. Octavia won after killing Luna and then decided that the clans would share it,” She sighed, exhaustion taking her between its talons and threatening to pull her under. Clarke despised having to think about the events that had transpired before _Praimfaya_. “She helped us.”

“Who did?”

“Luna,” Clarke clarified. “Or at least she tried to. She lost sight of herself at the end. She didn’t think humanity deserved to survive, and so when she fought in the Conclave, she’d decided that if she won, no one would get the bunker,” Lexa’s brow furrowed. That didn’t sound like the Luna she’d grown up with. “In the beginning, she was willing to help us. We thought that if we could turn everyone into Nightbloods, we could all survive.”

There was a momentary lapse in silence. “Are you the only one?” Lexa asked. Clarke nodded. “I am afraid that I don’t understand.”

Clarke sighed again. “We took bone marrow from Luna and injected it into someone we thought was a murderer. Like Mount Weather,” She clenched her jaw and pushed out a breath through her nose. “He died. When it came time to test someone else, Luna refused to help. We sedated her. We took her marrow by force, like the Mountain Men,” Clarke was speaking through her teeth, and Lexa could hear how, as usual, Clarke’s actions haunted her. How the weight of what she’d done had sank into her soul and devoured her from the inside out. “I couldn’t…” She closed her eyes. “I couldn’t test anyone else, not knowing if it would work.”

The Commander watched her take a breath, her nostrils flaring and bottom lip beginning to tremble. “You injected yourself. You volunteered.”

She nodded. “Yeah,” Clarke murmured. “I couldn’t kill anyone else.”

“If you were not sure that the Nightblood would work, then why are you not inside the bunker?”

Clarke shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was supposed to be,” She said, adjusting her grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t know if you remember her, but Raven was trapped inside the bunker that we’re headed to right now. Bellamy and I went to get her, but we couldn’t make it back to Polis before the death wave hit,” Clarke pursed her lips. “There was a rocket inside the bunker that we were going to use to go up into space.” 

Lexa frowned. “But you’re still here.” 

“Yes,” Clarke pushed out a breath through her nose. Talking about her friends made her heart clench painfully inside her chest. She missed them. She wondered whether or not they were still alive. “I got left behind. Someone had to access a cell tower and send power to the Ark from the ground. We had a ten minute window, and I missed it. Bellamy and the others left without me,” Clarke looked up into the mirror and smiled thinly. “I’m glad I didn’t get to go. Madi wouldn’t have survived without me.”

“I’m glad you found her,” Lexa agreed quietly. “You do not do well on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked. She turned in her seat to glare at Lexa. “I’ve survived on my own before.”

The Commander scoffed. “Barely,” She said. “The last time you were on your own, Clarke, you did not bathe for three months. At least you’ve kept clean since _Praimfaya_.” 

A warm blush crept into Clarke’s cheeks. “Shut up, Lexa,” She muttered, and Lexa, in spite of the tension still lingering between them, chuckled quietly. “At least I didn’t starve. You’re nothing but a bag of bones. It’s like you forgot how to hunt after being shot to death.”

Lexa cringed. “I did not forget how to hunt,” She stated. “There is simply nothing left for me to catch.” 

“Funny,” Clarke mused. “Madi and I have managed to hunt just fine. Where did you think the squirrel meat came from that you’ve been stuffing your face with every day?” 

“ _Shof op, Klark_.”


	4. Four.

**Day 440** :

The Commander was roused from her sleep by the sounds of a child screaming. She bolted upright in her bed, her breath catching in the back of her throat and her heart hammering like a drum inside her chest. On instinct, her bare feet slid to the floor, the agonizing cries from the girl down the hall propelling Lexa out of bed. 

She anxiously padded into the hallway, her shadow looming over her and against the stark white walls of the bunker. A door at the end of the corridor was cracked open, and light filtered into the floor and spilled in tendrils across the floor. She inched closer before popping her head through the threshold, her dark eyes wide and glistening with concern as Clarke held Madi to her chest. “Is she all right?”

Clarke nodded in acknowledgement, her fingers combing through Madi’s hair as she gently rocked her back and forth. “It’s okay,” She was whispering. “I’m here. You’re safe.” Clarke closed her eyes and sighed, her shoulders slumped with an exhaustion that had settled deep into her bones. “Nothing can hurt you while I’m here.” 

It was an intimate moment between them, but Lexa couldn’t find it within herself to look away. Madi was clinging to Clarke like a second skin, her small hands clutching at the fabric of her t-shirt. Her face was pressed into the crook of her neck, and Lexa wondered just how many times Clarke had awaken in the middle of the night only to comfort her. She was sniffling, her cries dwindling to salty tears that rolled in rivets down her cheeks. 

“She saw what the death wave did to her parents,” Clarke murmured, her tone so soft that Lexa was almost certain she had imagined it. “She has nightmares about it,” She rested her cheek against the top of Madi’s head, her body still swaying back and forth as she lulled her back to sleep. “Sometimes she’s afraid to go to sleep because she thinks she’ll see what _Praimfaya_ did to them in her dreams.”

A momentary silence settled between them, Clarke continuing to hold Madi while Lexa watched them apprehensively. The tension between herself and Clarke had dissipated over the last several days and since they had first arrived at the bunker, but Lexa was far from feeling comfortable enough to ask about her relationship with Madi. She wanted to know how they had found one another. She wanted to know how they had managed to survive when Lexa had struggled for over a year. 

“I understand,” Lexa murmured, and Clarke’s eyes flashed to her face. “When the death wave hit, I saw what was left of my family burn. It was…horrifying,” The Commander’s face was shadowed with a grief that was well known to Clarke. “I did not know what was happening. Word had only just reached my village that _Praimfaya_ was coming. We did not have time to prepare.”

A sigh escaped through Clarke’s lips. “There was no preparing for it,” She said, leaning against the headboard of Madi’s bed. “We were lucky to find the bunker in Polis, but even then, we found it too late. I don’t even know if they’re alive down there. Octavia was…” Clarke pursed her lips. “She became the new Commander, in a way. After she won the Conclave for the bunker, she just…” Her eyes fluttered for just a moment. “She wasn’t you.”

Silence fell between them once more, Clarke avoiding her gaze while Lexa worried at her bottom lip. She idly picked at her nails to give her fingers something to do, a habit she’d picked up somewhere in the aftermath of _Praimfaya_. Her hip bumped against the stand next to Madi’s bed as she hovered, the corner digging into the sliver of skin exposed beneath the hem of her shirt. 

It wasn’t until Clarke was suddenly rolling out of bed that Lexa staggered back, her hands floundering at her sides as Clarke tucked Madi beneath the blankets. There was something endearing about the way that Clarke pressed a kiss to Madi’s forehead, her fingers smoothing the hair away from her face before she turned out the light next to the bed. Clarke waved Lexa from the room and then closed the door behind them, her body leaning heavily against it once the metal clicked into place. 

Lexa clasped her hands together behind her back, and Clarke rolled her eyes at the familiar stance of authority. “You should rest, Clarke,” The Commander announced, prompting her to scoff in disapproval. Lexa frowned. “You’re tired.” 

“I’m a lot of things, Lexa, but tired isn’t one of them,” Clarke’s shoulders slumped as her head fell back against the door. “I’m _exhausted,_ ” She complained, then paused, considerate. “And hungry. Do we have any meat in the fridge?”

“I believe so,” Lexa answered. “I did not eat any today, but Madi had squirrel for lunch. Some berries, too, I think.”

Nodding, Clarke pushed herself away from the door before traipsing haphazardly down the hall. “Care to join me for a snack?” She called over her shoulder, and Lexa quirked an eyebrow, her feet following after Clarke on their own accord. “Sit. I’ll cook.” Clarke jerked her head towards the white table stationed towards the right of the kitchen.

Doing as she was told, Lexa pulled out a chair before falling down into it with little grace. Her elbows dug into the tabletop, and with her chin resting in the palm of her hand, Lexa watched Clarke through half-lidded eyes as she moved back and forth through the kitchen. “—Hunting soon,” She was saying, but Lexa’s own exhaustion was quickly taking hold of her now that Madi was asleep and her legs were no longer supporting her weight. “—Not too far from here. We could—” Clarke’s head disappeared into the freezer. “—Madi likes—”

“Clarke,” Lexa said, and Clarke whirled around on her heels to look at her. She dropped a container of frozen meat onto the counter, her hands falling to rest on her hips as Lexa struggled to keep her head up. “May I take you up on your offer some other time?” The Commander asked, and the corners of Clarke’s lips quirked at up the corners in amusement. 

“Yeah, sure,” Clarke dismissed, waving her away and turning towards the counter. She pried open the container of squirrel meat before placing a frying pan on the stove. “Suit yourself. Go to bed. More for me.” 

She knew that Clarke would never take more provisions than her own share, and so Lexa rose to her feet and stood on wobbly legs. She stretched, bending backwards until the bones in her spine cracked, her arms stretched above her head. “ _Reshop, Klark._ ” She said, and Clarke glanced at her from the corners of her eyes, her cheeks tinged with a blush that Lexa couldn’t see through tired eyes. 

“Goodnight, Commander,” She mumbled, refusing to acknowledge the exposed skin of Lexa’s stomach. Her shirt was tattered, too small, and it rode up when Lexa stretched. “See you in the morning.” 

 


	5. Five.

**Day 470:**

A loud cough rumbled through Madi's chest, her breathing labored from the cold that had taken hold of her small body. She was curled into Lexa's side, the two of them seated together on a white leather sofa that blended with the rest of the bunker. Lexa's fingers were combing gently through Madi's tangled hair, soothing her as she sniffled and coughed again. She was shaking, and Lexa could feel the sharp spike in Madi's temperature through the thin grey material of her t-shirt. 

Clarke rounded the corner from the kitchen, a small glass of water in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other. She dropped to one knee in front of the couch, then held the glass out to Madi with a frown. "Here," She said gently, and Madi took the cup between both hands, eyeing the crushed leaves that had sank to the bottom of the glass. "They're just mint leaves," Clarke promised her, resting her hand on Madi's knee. "They'll help with your cough. Just drink." 

She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her shirt, then brought the glass to her lips and drank. The water helped to soothe her aching throat, and Madi's raspy breathing echoed noisily into the cup. Clarke watched her through worried eyes, her heart heavy and stomach churning with unease, and Lexa could feel her concern just as easily as she could feel Madi's fever. She'd fallen ill only days ago, but Madi's condition had been steadily declining since they'd returned to the bunker from a hunting trip. 

When Madi had drank the cup dry, she handed the glass back to Clarke. "Thank you," She mumbled, then curled into Lexa's side again. 

Clarke pressed the back of her hand to Madi's cheek, then perched herself on the edge of the couch. In a feeble attempt to combat Madi's fever, she folded the washcloth that she'd brought from the kitchen and laid it across her forehead. Madi whimpered, complaining that towel was cold, but Lexa assured her in a quiet voice that it was necessary. "But it's cold and I don't feel good," Madi groaned, looking up at Lexa through wide, watering eyes. 

" _Ai get in, ai strik natblida,_ " The Commander said, and Madi huffed before twisting down into Lexa's lap, her head resting against her thigh. "Sleep," She prompted. "Perhaps you'll feel better when you wake."

Madi tossed and turned for several moments, then settled onto her back when she realized that it was easier to breathe. She closed her eyes, and the rumbling inside her chest dulled to a low rasp as she drifted off to sleep. Clarke waited until Madi had fallen completely still before leaning forward, her elbows digging into her knees as she buried her face into the palms of her hands. Their supplies were low, and what little medication she'd found inside the bunker was hardly enough to treat what Clarke suspected to be pneumonia. 

"Clarke," She heard Lexa say, but she shook her head to dismiss Lexa's constant reassurance. "She'll be all right. She just needs to rest." 

"She's been resting for a week," Clarke snapped at her, her fingers twisting back into her hair. "If I'm right and she has pneumonia, she's not going to get better without antibiotics." 

The Commander sighed. "So you've said."

She was desperate to reach out and to console her, to comfort her, to offer her a cure to Madi's ailment. Lexa worried at her bottom lip, and after several moments of hesitation, she placed a gentle hand on Clarke's shoulder. Her entire body tensed beneath the weight of it, and Clarke's nerves twisted themselves into agonizing knots beneath her skin. The very last time that Lexa had touched her, she'd been telling Clarke goodbye. She'd whispered, " _Ai gonplei ste odon_ ," through bloodied lips and had begged Clarke not to be afraid, then had kissed her with what was meant to be her last breath.

It was something that Clarke had yet to forgive her for.

Lexa withdrew her hand and placed it back into her lap. "I'm sorry," She said quietly, the weight of her words sinking into Clarke and smothering her. 

She nodded. "I know." 

**Day 474:**

"Clarke," Lexa lamented, following her through the bunker and into the kitchen. "Please. Think about what you're doing."

Clarke ignored her, stuffing a canteen of water into the bag she'd busied herself with packing. It was light, a single change of clothes and hardly enough food to sustain her, but she wasn't going to be gone for long. 

" _K_ _lark_ ," Lexa grabbed her by the arm, her fingers curling tightly around Clarke's wrist. Her nails dug gently into her ivory skin, but Lexa's grip was iron tight and unyielding. "Listen to me," She pleaded, pulling Clarke back when she tried to yank herself free. "I know that you want to help her, but you can't leave. Wait until Madi's stronger, and then--"

"Shut up," Clarke snarled, ripping herself free from Lexa's grasp. "It's a two day trip to Arkadia. She'd never make it." Clarke slung her bag over her shoulder, then shoved Lexa aside and stormed into the bunker's laboratory. 

Madi was right where Clarke had left her, stretched across the couch and tucked beneath a thin black blanket. She was sleeping, but she tossed and turned and fought against the fever that plagued her. Clarke dropped to her knees next to the couch, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she cupped Madi's face between her palms. "Hey," She whispered, gently brushing her thumb across her cheek. Madi's eyes fluttered, and the raspiness of her breathing was loud enough to fill the whole room. "I'll be back soon, okay? But Lexa will be right here with you." 

She could feel Lexa hovering behind her, could feel the intensity of her desperate glare burning into the back of her head, but she pressed on, taking Madi's hand and squeezing it. "Ste yuj," She pleaded quietly, and then she forced herself back onto her feet as a tear rolled down her cheek. Clarke wiped it away before pressing a kiss to Madi's forehead, her skin so warm that Clarke could feel the fever through her lips. She cringed. "I love you," She murmured, and she could imagine Madi's voice saying it back to her. "I won't be gone long."

Rising to her tallest height, Clarke turned on her heel and was reluctant to face the Commander. "You'll take care of her, won't you?" She asked, her voice breaking around the threat of an approaching hysteria. "I showed you how to work the radio. If something happens and I need to come back--"

"I'll take care of her," Lexa promised, closing the distance between them and gently taking Clarke's hand. She tensed, but reveled in the feeling of Lexa's fingers pressing into her palm. "Are you certain that you leaving is her only chance?"

Clarke nodded. "Arkadia's medbay is still standing," She said. "There's medicine there that'll help her."

 

Lexa struggled for several moments, torn between begging Clarke to stay and ushering her from the bunker to start her journey. "All right," She forced herself to say, and she was rewarded by Clarke's fingers closing around her own. "Be safe. Come home to us in one piece."

"I will," Clarke swore. "I have to."

 


	6. Six.

**Day 481:**

Lexa paced back and forth in front of the entrance, her hands clasped together behind her back as she searched the horizon beyond the bunker. She hadn’t heard from Clarke since she’d driven into the heart of a storm on her way back from Arkadia, and she was late. The radio had gone silent after a clap of thunder had burst through the wretched device that Lexa hated, followed by Clarke’s panicked cursing. Static had settled across the bunker, and Madi had awoken in a feverish daze to ask when Clarke was coming home. 

“Where are you, Clarke?” Lexa squinted against the rapidly setting sun. The sky was ablaze with orange hues and the remnants of dark purple clouds, and in the distance she could see lightning snapping at the ground. The storm that Clarke had encountered back in Arkadia was headed their way, and Lexa would have to seal up the bunker if she didn’t return home soon. The last thing she needed was for Madi to be dosed with radiation. 

And then she saw it—the faint glimmer of silver barreling across the rugged terrain. 

Clarke was pushing the rover to its limits, refusing to let up from the gas pedal as she fought against the storm that was tailing her. It had followed her all the way home, and Clarke had spent the last three days cursing whatever higher power had it out for her. Lightning cracked down behind her and flashed against the mirrors, blinding her with a burst of bright light until the electrified tendrils flickered out only to recharge. 

She glanced at the case of medicine sitting in the passengers’ seat. The glass vials rattled against the sides of the metal crate, and she was afraid that the jarring movements of the rover would crack the containers and spill the liquids inside. Clarke reached out to hold the crate still, her fingers shaking and battered beyond recognition. Her skin was blistered and festering, and she could only imagine what her face and the rest of her looked like. The acid rain that she’d gotten caught in back at Arkadia hadn’t been kind to her.

The rover drifted over a deeply cut trench that had been carved from lightning weeks before. Clarke gritted her teeth as the tires slammed back down onto solid ground, the vials rattling despite her hold on the crate. She was close now—she could see the bunker doors that were beaten and weathered from Praimfaya. The metal expanse that delved deep into the ground groaned against the wind from the storm, and standing between the towering doors constructed of metal was Lexa.

Her arms were waving above her head, beckoning Clarke home as the rover skidded to a stop. The Commander bolted from beneath the safety of the bunker, closing the distance between them quickly enough to catch Clarke as she tumbled out of the rover. “Clarke!” she said, her emerald eyes wide and full of fear. 

“I’m fine,” Clarke told her. “Get the crate.” 

Lexa studied her battered expression until a spark of lightning whipped at the ground behind them. She had seen Clarke beaten and bloody before, but she’d never seen her doused with radiation. Her skin was cracked and blistered, and her eyes were so swollen that Lexa didn’t know how she’d been able to drive home. 

“Lexa,” Clarke snapped, hauling her back into her senses. “Get the crate.”

She dove into the rover and retrieved the crate full of medicine, balancing it on one hip before wrapping her arm around Clarke’s waist. “Come on,” Lexa said, relieved when Clarke leaned into her and let her support her weight. She could hardly stand. “I’ve got you.” 

Clarke looked up at her and smiled through lips that were cracked and peeling. “I know. Let’s get inside.” 

Together, they stumbled inside, and Clarke sealed the door shut behind them. 

 


End file.
